


In the light of the storm

by Chromiad



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games), Red Dead Redemption Online - Fandom
Genre: (sorta minor but it’s the reason for the hurt so’s ya know), Cillian will never get this sad again dw about it, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Thunderstorms, just dudes bein bros, lots of comfort, totally self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:22:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22144051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chromiad/pseuds/Chromiad
Summary: In the dark of the night, in the light of a storm. You can always use a friend.
Relationships: Original Female Character&Cripps (RDO), Original Female Character/Cripps (RDO)
Kudos: 2





	In the light of the storm

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this for,??? Some reason?! Totally for me only but I felt it was good enough to post
> 
> Insta is Mieumji :-D (check me out I’m kinda cool sometimes)

Sunny. Humid . Hot. Why did it have to be SO hot?

The Heartlands usual cool wind had been replaced with a humid mess of partly rainy weather for the last week. Cillain, having just returned from a delivery up to the Adler Ranch, was NOT impressed with the newfound heat of the usually dreary area. The labrador, Coal, was dutifully laying by the two A-frames. Ears perking up at the sound of Pomegranates heavy hooves hit the wet grass of camp. Following behind as his human delivered more meat and skins to the strange smelling man. 

“Finally! I was just about to send a search party after you you’d been gone so long” Taking the skins and setting them by one currently tanning.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily you bastard. Just took some time doing some extra hunting and favours on the way back. Got sidetracked by a few promises of easy money too.” She smiled lightly,patting her horse on the flank and sending it off to get a drink.  
“So, anything interesting goings on around here while I was gone?” Steel spectacles sliding down her freckled nose as she glanced down at her mutt.

“A few aspiring bandits, Coal took care of them well enough… only thing that parasite is good for.” Wiping his bloody hands on the already soiled washcloth hanging out of his belt. “Had a few boomers last night, right big lightnin’ too.”

Cillian froze. Her body rigid with impending fear that could only be rivaled with looking a mama bear right in the eyes. “A-Are you sure it was thunderin? Like it wasn’t just gunfire or sumthin?” She rapped her ring finger against the holster. The drumming making a constant beat of worry.

“Ahm pretty sure… ‘Least i think so? Was half asleep when i heard it so maybe not.” 

She had already turned around when he had finished his sentence, working on sorting out some coins and bottles of some weird looking liquid. The jovial demeanour of the camp turned sour as even the mutt meandered back to its bed by the tent out of fear of Cillians mood. The cogs in the camp machine worked as well as any oil baby daddy’s workshop. Yet when the boss was in a bad mood the lugs seized and most production stopped. Luckily for Cripps Trading Co., at least she went hunting when stressed. Though the sun had already begun to set and pushing the Belgian too far would only make tomorrow worse. 

“I’m going to bed. Taking the dog with me. If you need me, wait till morning…”

-

Cripps awoke, seemingly for no reason. Sitting up he stretched his already broken back. Had to be late. The drumming of rain against the canvas creating a melody of calm that reminded the man of his farm roots. What would have woken him? Usually sleep came like a tidal wave, heavy and fast. Sleeping like a lead pipe had its perks, one of them being sleeping through the entire night most days. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a large swell of thunder, followed not that shortly by a crack of lightning, close enough to probably split a tree down the middle. Even stranger came a sort of wail of fear from nearby, very feminine in its pitch.

No one with that sort of cry should be around here…

Deciding it better to err on the side of caution, Cripps shambled out of the tent into surprisingly light showers for the type of weather he assumed they were having. There it was again. Coupled with the boom of thunder; another howl of fear, and what sounded like sobs? Now, he’d never been a good shoulder to cry on, but the man had at least a shred of chivalry to not let whatever woman who was out here keep crying her eyes out. Shielding his eyes from the downpour, he scanned the camp. Eyes falling upon the identical A-Frame next to his. While a bit larger in size, it held more storage for things other than the pelts and other assorted trademarks of Cripps trading co. The lantern inside flickering dimly. What was boss doing up so late? Usually Cillian stuck to a straight and narrow routine. Hunt for days on end, sleep for 2 straight, repeat.

He couldn’t exactly knock on a tent, so he took the next best thing of clearing his voice. The whimpering stopped, though the heavy breathing of both the dog and Cillian was still evident.

“Uh… Boss? You ok in there?” Cripps shifted his weight on his feet. “ I don’t mean to intrude but I heard a scream… wanted to make sure you were alri-“ 

“ I’m fine Cripps.”

“You’re obviously not. While I’m not a pryin’ man myself, you are my boss so I’d rather you be in the best state of mind. C’mon, I’ll lend ya an ear and you just let ol scripts know what it’s troubling you.”

The flap of the A-Frame opened slightly. An Invitation. Cripps shook most of the rain off of his jacket before ducking under, to find Cillian holed up with Coal in the back of the tent. 

“Get over here afore I shoot you old man.”

He let out a quick laugh, grabbing a pelt and settling down next to Cillian. The latter immediately leaning her head onto his shoulder.

They sat there is a comfortable silence. Every boom of thunder making Cillian tense and lean farther into the man. They sat like that for what must have been hours until the storm passed and they were left with the soft patter of rain on canvas.

“Reminds me of prison.” Her voice was raw and sad. Very unlike her usual persona of a chivalrous cowboy.

“Ah I get that. Wrongful accusations usually lead to even more wrongful corpral punishments.”

“Whips, rocks, guns, you name it. Any loud noise does it. ‘Cept gunfire ironically.”

They sat there a few minutes more, soft silence, till a large snore from Cillian broke the magic of the moment.”

Poor thing musta been up for at least 48 hours straight. Might as well stick around, ‘d hate for her to wake up again.

So there they sat. Two broken people in a broken world. All three not wanting to admit it. Maybe one day. Hopefully.

For the time being though this was enough, slightly honest work in a slightly honest world. Even slightly was good enough for the two of them. Just enough.


End file.
